


He loves you (until you are fully devoted)

by Chromi



Series: Deuce-centric [5]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Blow Jobs, Coming In Pants, Established Relationship, Fingers in Mouth, Foot Jobs, Love, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21887623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromi/pseuds/Chromi
Summary: Ace and Deuce were not partaking in the raucous celebrations, and while their sudden and uncharacteristic refusal of beer and drunken singing did not go unnoticed, they were certainly not about to be checked up on.Not after the door to the captain’s cabin had been locked.
Relationships: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace
Series: Deuce-centric [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576678
Comments: 25
Kudos: 46





	He loves you (until you are fully devoted)

**Author's Note:**

> I have a million NSFW scenarios involving Deuce that I need to get off my chest, so here, have yet another series of nonsense from yours truly.
> 
> Big thanks to gay-baby-jail for encouraging this ♥

Everyone was on deck; drunk, yelling, singing, and making the most god-awful din that it was a wonder they weren’t attracting the attention of every marine on the Grand Line. The fight was won, the loot was hauled on deck, and the outstandingly pathetic pirate crew that the Spades had ransacked had been left to sink or swim out in the middle of the sea.

All was good. All were boozed out of their minds by now, judging by the way the music grew steadily less tuneful as the night progressed.

All except the crew’s two key members. The Bosses, as Skull called them. Captain and Guard, as Mihar would sometimes snicker.

Ace and Deuce were not partaking in the raucous celebrations, and while their sudden and uncharacteristic refusal of beer and drunken singing did not go unnoticed, they were certainly not about to be checked up on.

Not after the door to the captain’s cabin had been locked.

Not after Kotatsu, of all crewmates, had been unceremoniously shooed out of the bedroom with a loud, indignant yowl.

And not a soul would disturb them until breakfast the next morning. When their captain turned handsy and their first mate even more so, every person on board recognised this as a warning of what was to come – the promise that tomorrow would see Ace positively bouncing with energy, and Deuce looking smugger than any bastard had the right to.

Now Ace had Deuce exactly how he wanted him – sitting pinned underneath him on his bed, palms settled on the sheets beneath him, chest already heaving with arousal and lips parted, accepting the thumb that slipped between them to rest at his teeth. Ace had no idea if he was hard yet or not, deliberately refusing to drop his hips fully into Deuce’s lap, but from the way his eyes lidded and his cheeks flushed, Ace was leaning toward suspecting that Deuce was already straining in his underwear.

_So honest. So perfect._

“Open up, babe.” Barely above a whisper, spoken calmly and measured, yet still Ace had Deuce’s long, dark lashes fluttering to heated skin momentarily before he complied. “More than that,” Ace breathed, hooking his thumb over Deuce’s lower incisors to coax his jaw into relaxing further, “open up for me, Deuce.”

Uncertain adoration blinked up at him through a haze of longing as Deuce allowed Ace to position him as he desired, clearly not quite catching onto what Ace was aiming for and yet agreeing to it wholeheartedly regardless. His eyes flickered back and forth between Ace’s as if trying to catch an answer hidden somewhere between them, a secret held back from him that he so wanted to learn.

But there was nothing untoward going on in Ace’s mind. Nothing at all, unless the sudden and intense desire to finger-fuck his first mate’s mouth counted. Then, perhaps, there might be.

A soft moan escaped Deuce when two of Ace’s fingers slid in over the plush pad of his tongue, thumb coming to press at the underside of his jaw to anchor his hold. It was enough to elicit a pleasurable tremble within Ace, the way that Deuce couldn’t hope to hold back his voice when held open so intimately. He had no choice but to let every sound he made tumble straight into Ace’s waiting grip.

“That’s better,” Ace soothed, fingers sliding deft over wet muscle, “stick your tongue out a bit more. That’s it. Let me see you properly.”

What he could see – what stole every one of Ace’s senses and swallowed down all thought processes beyond _fuck he’s cute_ – was nothing other than Deuce’s submission. His guard shirked, barriers gone, reduced to a man unashamedly waiting for more, for more, _for so much more_. To be taken along by the whims of his partner, trusting whatever unusual fancy had seized him today – forever unquestioning once secure in the bedroom, away from his role of first mate, of doctor, of writer.

Where Ace could have Deuce as he liked him best – transparent. Sincere. And for his sight only.

“Don’t try to stop yourself drooling,” Ace instructed, working his fingers over Deuce’s tongue in methodical strokes, revelling in the uncontrolled manner in which it worked restlessly in tandem with him, “let it spill.”

He would do whatever was asked of him. That was the beautiful thing about Deuce – never questioning. Never one to judge what was put to him within these four walls (outside was a whole different matter, sometimes even begging the question of who was _really_ the captain of this crew). Accepting, eager, and willing.

So, _so_ willing.

His body jerked and went stiff the moment Ace’s fingers slid further back, pressing into the back of his tongue and drawing from him that mild warning of a gag reflex. Tears began budding in those dark eyes that refused to look away, intent only on holding Ace’s heavy gaze through each slick thrust into his mouth. Teeth scraped light along fingers with near enough every movement, yet Ace barely felt it – he was becoming steadily more enthralled by the way in which Deuce had begun to shake, tremor barely repressed, the longer he aimed for that sensitive part of his tongue.

“Have you ever tried finding your gag reflex?” Ace asked quietly; Deuce didn’t – _couldn’t_ – answer, watching him as if to blink would be to break whatever spell he was under. “The one in your throat,” Ace continued, and to illustrate as if Deuce would never understand if he didn’t, he pressed his thumb lower to rest pointedly against his Adam’s apple. It bobbed with Deuce’s pronounced swallow, throat working hard in its fruitless attempt at containing the saliva that had begun to run freely over his already sodden lower lip, trickling from the corners of his mouth.

What a sight. What a _treat_ , to have him accept the humiliation of dribbling like a damn new-born all over himself.

“Shall I find it for you?”

Ah, he was so _pretty_ when his eyes widened like that, causing a positive _fountain_ of carefully controlled tears to roll down his cheeks. With a searing pang of _heat_ pooling in his groin, Ace slid his fingers as far back into Deuce’s throat as he dared to go. His target was found with ease – that small bud at the base of the tongue, knuckles pressed to the uvula – and Ace flipped Deuce’s switch.

His reaction was instant; his throat clamped in a hard swallow, a gasp sucked in around the intruding digits – fists curled into the sheets on which Deuce sat, spine pulling taut and shoulders rolling back in discomfort, in spasming _need_ to override his body’s innate response to those nerves being assaulted.

“There,” Ace smiled as if he hadn’t just made a genuine attempt at forcing Deuce to wretch, “that bit right there.”

Warm fingers rose to brush Deuce’s hair back behind his ear from where it had slid when he jerked; a kiss, almost patronising in its delicacy, placed at his forehead.

“That’s what my cock rubs up against when you deepthroat me.” The laugh almost bubbled over – that unadulterated _pleasure_ he got from the absolute surrender he had in this moment – and Ace noted that his entire hand was completely sodden with Deuce’s saliva. It dripped from his chin, splattering down his bare chest, and, remarkably, tears continued to trickle down to join in too. He always did get overwhelmed too easily, forever attracting Ace’s keen interest in his ability to _feel_ so blatantly, so honestly. A sob hitched in Deuce’s chest as Ace watched, fascinated, before chasing the streaks of fluid down over his partner’s firm chest with his free hand, smearing it over Deuce’s skin. “Every time you feel yourself gagging – each time you think it’s a push too far, that you’re _definitely_ going to lose control – that’s what I’m hitting.”

There was no possible way that Deuce didn’t know this, but the way he looked so reverently at his captain he may as well have been entirely ignorant to all physiology and bodily processes.

“But I’m not gonna do that to you tonight,” Ace stated, and, to his surprise (and intense arousal), Deuce _whined_. “You _want_ me to?” he all but laughed, biting it back when Deuce gave the barest of nods.

Instead, a third finger slid in alongside the first two, wrist twisting to stroke at the roof of Deuce’s mouth. And he _arched_ forward, a sharp gasp that had no means of being stifled or swallowed rushing through Ace’s fingers. Submission at its finest, existing for none but Ace.

Was it possible to come from just having your mouth explored? It seemed completely unlikely, yet Deuce was so clearly losing control that perhaps he _could_.

Yet Ace was quite certain that he didn’t have the patience to attempt such a difficult task when it seemed so likely to fail.

Great, shuddering breaths left Deuce as Ace withdrew his fingers, and Deuce’s eyes went wide – glassy with tears, unfocused with arousal – when Ace sensually licked at them, tongue drawing hot and deliberate from base to tip.

“ _Ace, let me—”_ his voice came ragged and raw, a choked-out sound squeezed from a throat that had been violated, “ _please_ , give me—” Hands were at his belt immediately, fumbling in Deuce’s numb frenzy to get at what he wanted. “Wanna suck you off so bad—”

He was sorely tempted to let him, despite his half-formed plans of simply working him up to leave him so beautifully submissive and ready, agonised, _furious_ for a solid fucking to follow later into the night. The prospect of sliding over that tongue so sharp with quips and snipes, bumping none too gently to the back of a throat that opened to accept him without hesitation, was certainly one that was welcome and encouraged.

Ace found himself joining Deuce’s movements, soaked hand laying atop of Deuce’s trembling own momentarily to simply bask in the result of a job well done, of reducing him to such a state so easily.

“Okay,” Ace hissed, bending to press a kiss to Deuce’s crimson cheek, “make sure you swallow it all, though.” Fingers dipped and pressed against Deuce’s erection – hot, thick, _so_ turned on and beading wet right through his pants – and rubbed against the head through the material in an almost consoling manner, causing him to gasp wet and wanton into the curve of Ace’s neck.

“I will,” was moaned to Ace’s skin, hips twitching up, fingers slipping once the belt was popped open, “I will, I promise I—”

A high-pitched whine of _need_ followed Ace when he stood to rid himself of his shorts, breaking into something far softer when Deuce – all aching desperation to _satisfy,_ to _taste_ – slid from bed to floor, knees bent and back straight, jaw hanging slack and open and leaving no room for doubt as to _precisely_ what he wanted Ace to do to him.

And what was Ace if not kind to those he cared about?

“That’s it,” Ace encouraged gently, guiding the head of his cock between Deuce’s saliva-slicked lips onto his waiting tongue, “you’re so good to me, Deuce.”

He was. He always was nothing short of _perfect_ , as far as Ace was concerned, sarcasm and dry humor included. It had taken time to relax him enough to really _let go_ when intimate, a lifetime of being beaten down for not being good enough eternally ringing in his ears, that inbuilt repression of visceral expression something that had had to be extracted like poison from a wound over the course of weeks, months. Opening him up, reassuring that he was okay and safe, that whatever he was – _whoever_ he was – was enough, was more, was everything that Ace could ever need in a first mate. In a _soul_ mate, if he fancied such grand, fantastical terms.

So inexplicitly _good_ and _whole_.

So deserving of love, of care, of sexual liberation and the gift of freedom in both mind and body.

…So utterly at odds with the one who was _doing_ the liberating.

With a shaky groan Ace began to move, encouraged _so_ enthusiastically by every bob of Deuce’s head, his poorly controlled gasps and sighs through his nose, how he seized Ace’s hands to guide them to the back of his head, purposely threading long fingers through to silky roots. He moaned, _loud_ , scrabbling almost frantic at Ace’s hips to pull him in, to suck, to drip wet with saliva and precum mixed to his tongue and spill once again to his chest, the floor between his knees.

With a daring that he rarely thought to indulge, Ace lifted the navy mask from Deuce’s face and flicked it away to land on the bed, baring him purposefully, rendering him more naked than shedding him of his clothes could ever hope to achieve.

A sight that no one else had ever – would ever - see— the man who Ace himself had named, lips to groin and face a mess of bodily fluids, refusing to allow his eyes to roll shut, looking up at Ace with that same helpless love that he would sometimes catch watching him during dinner, or across the map room’s meeting table. Open and honest, giving in the form of taking everything that he wanted, selfishness dressed up so regally it was apt to masquerade as _selfless_.

Deuce loved without hesitation, and it was _delicious_.

Groaning, startled, Ace found himself coming remarkably soon, fingers twisting so tight into Deuce’s hair that it _had_ to hurt. But Deuce only seemed to get off on the pain, pulling Ace into his face and sucking like his thirst could never be quenched, swallowing around him with a moan that vibrated up and along Ace’s cock so brilliantly that his toes curled against the floor boards.

A stroke of brilliance – the was no other word for it – drove Ace to press the sole of one bare foot to the wet-tipped tent in Deuce’s pants. Immediately, verging on automatic without the slightest spark of coherent thought, it seemed, Deuce released his hold on Ace’s hips to claw at his foot, rutting up against it. A string of cum glistened between his lips and the head of Ace’s cock when he drew back, turning his face to stutter whimpers and soft moans of, “ _god, Ace, yes, oh_ —” into the inside of his thigh.

His voice came in a muffled sob of pure bliss pressed into Ace’s skin, jerking forward against his foot and making it sticky with his orgasm, even through the clothing.

And Ace squatted down to bring himself level with Deuce once he had calmed enough to lean back against the bed. With a gentleness that now seemed almost foreign among the heat, the smell of release, the rough dishevelment of Deuce’s usually neat hair, Ace leaned forward to press a kiss to those drenched, swollen lips. He couldn’t help but smile as Deuce kissed him back without hesitation, his old habit of pulling away in disgust at subjecting Ace to the taste of his own cum after a blowjob being a thing of the past by now. Tongue met tongue, sliding slick to the tune of Deuce’s throaty groan.

“You’re incredible,” Ace praised gently, thumbing at the tear tracks that stained Deuce’s cheeks, “did you know that?”

Deuce sighed a small laugh through his nose. “Yup.” And he was back out of that space reserved only for himself and Ace, all wry grin and deft fingers pulling Ace in closer to kiss him again. “So are you. Love you so much, Ace.”

He didn’t deserve such unabashed words of love, but he would take them. He would take anything at all from Deuce and keep it all safe somewhere deep in the chasm of his soul.

“You might want to think about getting out of those pants,” Ace grinned, forcing himself away from saying something impossibly sickly sweet the moment Deuce turned his face to nuzzle into Ace’s open palm.

A flash of walnut brown; a cheeky grin of the likes that none but Ace knew existed.

“You wanna help me out of them, hm?”

God, yes, he certainly did.

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, I'm on [Tumblr](https://aishitekuretearigatou.tumblr.com/) if you want to come say hi! I welcome all screamings about Deuce/Ace/Marco/whoever!
> 
> Comments and kudos let me know if I'm doing something right, and I really love your feedback!


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